


When You Lie

by raiining



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Episode Related, Episode Tag, Episode: s01e02 0-8-4, Insecure Clint, Insecure Phil, M/M, basically just an excuse to write feels, so many feels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-03
Updated: 2013-11-03
Packaged: 2017-12-31 09:04:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,871
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1029840
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/raiining/pseuds/raiining
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clint's fine.</p>
            </blockquote>





	When You Lie

**Author's Note:**

> I just wrote a whole bunch of Clint!feels. I’m not even sure why. I think today I needed a hug. 
> 
> Title from “No Really, It’s Fine” by Of Mice & Men
> 
>  
> 
> Beta’d overnight by the super fast, super fabulous Ralkana!

It’s fine.

Fury tells him as soon as he’s able. Clint had lost his security clearance for a few months – and yeah, okay, those weeks had sucked – but as soon as he earns it back Fury knocks on his door and tells him. Clint gives himself three days to roll the new information around his head (and he’s not waiting for Phil to call him, he’s _not_ ) before he mans up and calls his number.

It’s been changed, but S.H.I.E.L.D. patches him through. Clint doesn’t know where Phil is right now, but there isn’t a lot of background noise when he picks up the phone.

“Coulson.”

Clint has to swallow – the turkey breast they served at lunch today was too damn dry – before he manages to croak out, “How were the drinks in Tahiti?”

Phil’s voice actually breaks. “ _Clint_.”

He actually has a moment when he thinks it’s going to be okay, but then there’s a pause and Phil asks, too carefully, “When did you, how did you – ?”

“Just now,” he says, pushing those three days away in his mind. “Thought I’d make sure Fury wasn’t lying again.”

There’s another pause. “I’m glad,” Phil says finally. His voice is off, though.

And yeah – Clint saw this coming. He manages a smile, even though Phil can’t see him. “Anyway, just thought I’d say hi. I’m sure you’re busy. Bye, Phil.”

“Clint,” Phil tries, sounding tinny as Clint pulls away. His voice fades as Clint thumbs off his phone. 

He doesn’t want to hear it. He knows how this goes. Phil’s got a new team now, a better team, one he picked himself and didn’t have thrust upon him. The thing between them, this whatever they were doing, Clint never expected it to last. He was a convenient fuck, and he knows he’s not irreplaceable. His aim, yeah, that’s something people might bid for, but Clint knows the rest of the package isn’t a stellar deal. Phil certainly hadn’t hung around waiting for him. Clint gets it.

It’s fine. Phil’s alive, and that alone makes Clint feel better. He still goes out to a bar and gets shit-faced drunk, but at least he does it with a smile on his face. 

Stark finds him the next day and kidnaps him, taking him back to Stark Tower. He pours truly awful hangover cures down his throat and then challenges him to a Wii archery contest until Clint falls asleep on his sofa. The next day is somehow more of the same, and it takes Clint a week to realize the floor he’s been crashing on is actually his own, built specifically for him over the weeks and months he’d been sequestered at S.H.I.E.L.D. 

When he figures it out, Clint asks Tony about it but only gets a shrug in reply. “I’ve got the space,” the billionaire says, not meeting Clint’s eyes. “You don’t have to stay, or anything.”

Clint’s not sure what to say to that, but understands the desire to try and build yourself a better family than the one you got. Clint knows better than most how bad it can go, but he’s not about to tell Tony that it’s a worthless cause, because even now some distant part of him hopes that’s not true.

“I do have to go back to work sometime,” Clint finally says.

That makes Tony roll his eyes. “I’ll tell JARVIS not to wait up.”

Now that he knows he’s allowed, Clint starts exploring the Tower. He’d hung back before because he might have been raised in a circus but he knew enough not to be a shitty guest. JARVIS offers insights on the ventilation shafts, though, and Clint points out flaws in the security, and by the time Natasha shows up a week later, Clint has more or less made himself at home.

“Coulson blew up the Bus,” she tells Clint instead of hello, because Natasha is his best and worst friend. “They’re grounded for ten days.”

“They’ve got him driving around in a _bus_?” Tony demands. He hadn’t been pleased with the no-Phil’s-not-dead-but-no-you-can’t-have-him-back routine, either. “I could do so much better than a bus!”

Clint leaves Natasha to explain and takes off. His heart’s in his throat, but it’s not because Phil must have been in danger. It’s just that he likes that Bus. He’s the only one who flies her smoother than May.

May, who’s part of Phil’s elite team of non-superheroes. May, who Clint’s not jealous of at _all_. 

Clint hasn’t really been back to his apartment since moving into the Tower, so he figures he should probably go and pack up the last few things he has there. There isn’t much – he doesn’t want the Goodwill dishes and he couldn’t care less for the cutlery. There’s a snow globe Natasha bought him in Japan, though, and a picture of him, Phil, and Fury from the Christmas party last year. Clint’s just wrapping it in newspaper when there’s a knock on his door.

Phil looks – kind of shitty, actually. There’s soot on his chin and dirt in his hair and one helluva bruise on his cheekbone. His suit’s ripped up and his tie’s loose. Clint’s mouth still goes dry at the sight of him.

“Hi,” Phil says, his lips turning up in a half smile. “Can I come in?”

Clint doesn’t actually have any words at the moment, but he gestures inside and Phil walks in. He looks over the few boxes Clint will use to move his stuff, at the way the debris of his life are scattered around the apartment, and says, “Taking Stark up on his offer, I see?”

The fact that Phil knows that Clint’s moving into Tony’s place makes him irrationally angry. He doesn’t know _anything_ about Phil’s new life. He gets that that’s mostly his fault, but Clint doesn’t feel like being rational just now. He’s never claimed to be the responsible one in this whatever-the-hell they had going.

“Yeah,” he grates out, “just came by to pick up a few things.”

Phil looks over and cocks his head. His eyes aren’t judging, but he says, “Good timing.”

Clint bristles, and Phil looks momentarily contrite. “Look, Clint…”

“I think you left a pair of boxers here once,” Clint interrupts, brushing past him. “You can have them back if you like.”

Phil doesn’t move away from the door. Clint doesn’t look back at him. He goes to the bedroom and starts picking up all the stuff Phil’s left here over the years, some of it before they started making out when he came over. Back during the days when ‘come in for a pizza’ really meant ‘come in for a pizza’. 

Clint gathers together the two t-shirts, four pairs of socks, three boxers and Phil’s Captain America mug and carefully doesn’t think about how much he wanted to touch in those early days, how his fingers would itch as he sat beside Phil on the couch.

“… thanks,” Phil says, when Clint comes back with the pile. Clint finds a small box he was going to use for the few books he has, but fuck it. He can buy more books. 

Phil takes the stuff. He looks so fucking good, his blue eyes made even brighter by the soot on his cheeks. Clint finds his resolve to make a clean break fracturing. 

But then Phil says, “I guess that’s it, then,” and his voice is so calm, so controlled, that Clint gets angry again. 

“Yup,” he agrees, clenching his hands into fists at his side. He hasn’t punched Phil yet. He wants to, but he won’t. He’s not that guy. “Bye.”

Phil meets his eyes. Clint isn’t sure what he’s looking for there, but whatever he sees, it must be enough. He nods, licks his lips once, and turns to go. Clint’s shoulders are starting to shake from the effort of holding himself still. He clenches his jaw and forces himself not to break. He needs to hold it together for a little longer. Just another thirty seconds.

“Good-bye, Clint,” Phil says as he opens the door. Clint manages one terse nod before Phil steps away. 

He gets the door shut before he gasps – a great, shuddering roll that seems to reach from his toes and explode out of his mouth. His hands are shaking as he presses them to his eyes. His knees feel weak, and he’s going to pass out, but then there’s a sound from the hallway and the door is opening again and no, he can’t take this, he can’t – 

“ _Clint_ ,” Phil breathes. There’s too much emotion in his eyes. Clint can’t do this. He sobs and his knees give out, but then Phil is catching him and lowering him to the floor. 

Dimly, Clint is aware of his door falling shut and the box of Phil’s things being thrown to one side, but mostly, all he can hear and feel and see is Phil wrapping himself around Clint and pulling Clint’s head down to his chest and murmuring “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry” over and over and over again.

Clint really honestly means to push him away and jump out the window or something, but what he does instead is fist his hands into Phil’s filthy suit jacket and cry. Phil just squeezes him tighter. His palms start rubbing soothing circles over Clint’s shoulders and down his back, and then his right hand comes up to thread through Clint’s hair. 

Clint shudders, because he’s always loved it when Phil does that, and tries to burrow himself deeper into Phil’s chest. 

“I’m sorry,” Phil says again, low and right beside Clint’s ear. “I realized I was acting like the wronged party here when I never told you, never even tried to explain, how very much you mean to me. I realized that I’d left you, when I promised myself that I’d never leave you. I remember that you more than anyone had reason to think that I’d never come back for you, that you weren’t worth coming back to, and I should never have let you think that. I’m sorry, Clint. I’m so sorry. I love you.”

Clint doesn’t have anything to say to that. He just cries harder and clutches at Phil, who doesn’t seem to care that his shirt’s getting soaked. 

It takes him longer than he’d like to admit to get himself under control. When he feels better, Clint slowly pulls back. Phil’s grip tightens around him for a second before he relaxes and lets Clint sit up on his own. He doesn’t release him, though, just gives him enough slack to straighten.

“I’m sorry,” Clint apologizes, swiping at his eyes while avoiding Phil’s gaze. Phil lets go of his back to cup his chin. He holds him still while he comes in close for a kiss. It’s soft and gentle and sweet, and something they haven’t done a lot of, despite the fact that they’ve fucked on this floor, the couch, the kitchen, and Clint’s bed.

“You don’t have anything to apologize for.”

“I kinda do. I am an actual adult. I should have, I don’t know, at least admitted that I missed you or something. That might have helped.”

“Maybe,” Phil agrees, “but you called me when I was too chicken shit to even try, and you were here when you knew I would be in town. I could have turned the Bus around so many times – I _wanted_ to – but I never did. You were the brave one, like always. I’m just trying to keep up.”

Clint licks his lips. He doesn’t want to question Phil, wants to just take what he can get and let that be enough, except he’s maybe had enough of that. “Why?”

Phil still hasn’t let go of him. His hand is on his Clint’s face, and his thumb rubs gentle circles into his cheek. “Why didn’t I turn around? Or why am I trying to keep up?”

“Why – any of it, I guess.”

“I told you, Clint – I love you. I’ve always loved you, since the day you walked into S.H.I.E.L.D., since that first mission in Madrid. I loved you and I wanted you and I never, in a million years, thought you would want anything to do with a older, balding, boring handler with an unhealthy obsession for superheroes. When we started this, whatever it was we were doing, I told myself to shut up and take what I could get. I never knew if I was the only one, or if you had other people on the side. I told myself that it didn’t matter.”

“I didn’t – ” Clint stutters, “Phil, you were the only – ”

“Shh, I know, I’m sorry, I know. I’m just trying to explain,” Phil hushes him. His left hand is rubbing circles over Clint’s back. “When Loki took you I realized that I’d never told you how much I loved you, how losing you would break me. I promised myself that if I got you back I would man up and do something, even if it ended things between us. But then I woke up in medical, and I was so sore, and tired, and no one knew I was alive. I felt… lost, I guess. Alone. All my old insecurities came back. Even if you wanted me before, I was broken now. You’re young and beautiful and so goddamn perfect, Clint. I didn’t want to drag you down with me.”

His arms tighten around Clint. “No,” he corrects himself, before Clint can do more than open his mouth, “that isn’t true. I was too scared to try. I thought that asking and being rejected would be more than I could take. Nick visited every day and told me you were on restricted clearance, you and Natasha both. He promised he’d tell you as soon as he could. I believed him. I knew the day you got your clearance back. When I didn’t hear from you immediately, I blamed you instead of manning up and calling you myself.”

“It took me three days to work up the nerve,” Clint confesses. His hands are clenched in Phil’s suit again. “I get the… the being scared of being rejected thing.”

“I know.” Phil’s hands come up to cup the back of his neck. He looks into Clint’s eyes, drawing his gaze from where it’s strayed to the floor. “I’m so sorry, Clint. I know people have left you before; I shouldn’t have forced you to be the one to come to me. I came here today telling myself that I just wanted back what we had, but that isn’t true. I want _you_ , Clint. I want to be with you. I want to tell everyone that we’re together. I want to introduce you to my team. I want to take you home to meet my parents. I want… I want anything and everything you’re willing to give me.”

Clint catches his breath. He stares into Phil’s eyes.

Phil’s fingers twitch. “If that’s too much for you, I’m sorry. I’m not trying to give you an ultimatum here. I just… I want you to understand how much you mean to me. I don’t want to hide that from you ever again.”

“I… god, Phil.” Clint shudders. “I want everything. I do, but…” he chuckles, a hollow laugh. “I’m not exactly the kind of guy you bring home to meet your parents.”

“You’re wrong,” Phil tells him, fingers tightening. “You are _exactly_ the kind of person anyone would be proud to call a son. I love you, Clint, everything about you. I’ll keep telling you that until you believe me, and I’ll show you, too.”

“Are you sure you won’t…” Clint swallows, but he has to know, “won’t leave me again? Because I can’t take that, Phil. If you’re even the littlest bit unsure you can’t, I can’t, please…”

“I won’t. As much as I can promise anything, I promise you that. I won’t.”

Clint knows that’s the most he can ask for, and more than he should want. He clutches at Phil’s shoulders and drags him back in for a kiss. They melt against each other, climbing almost in each other’s lap, and Phil holds him as if he never wants to let him go. 

It’s hours later before they finally do. They’ve moved to the bed in that time, Clint’s things still half-packed around them. They’re both naked under the covers, and Clint would feel pretty smug about their mutual orgasms, if he wasn’t still feeling so unsettled. He draws nonsense patterns on the skin of Phil’s chest, though his fingers clench at open air when Phil’s phone chimes and he gets out of bed to answer it.

He comes right back, but Clint hesitates before reaching out to touch him again. “You’ve got to go?” 

Phil reads the text on his phone, smiles, and shuts it off. “No.”

Clint blinks. He’s never seen Phil actually _shut off_ his phone before. “Are you sure?” He wants to say ‘it would be okay’ only it really kind of wouldn’t, and so Clint closes his mouth before the words can escape.

It feels like he’s growing as a person.

Phil turns on his side and cards a hand through his hair. “I’m sure. It’s just my team, they’re unused to being grounded for so long.”

Clint nods and avoids his eyes, going back to drawing nonsense on Phil’s chest, but Phil drags his gaze back. “Hey,” he says softly. “You know my team isn’t a replacement for you.”

Clint has to smile, because he hadn’t realized this whole letting-down-his-barriers thing would mean Phil would get so goddamn perceptive. He doesn’t say anything, though.

“They _aren’t_ ,” Phil says again. “They’re more of a… a consolation prize. Like a ‘good job, you didn’t die, but you also can’t have Strike Team Delta back – have some rookies instead’.”

“I’d hardly call Melinda May a ‘rookie’.”

Phil winces. “Please don’t tell her I said that. She is having a hard time, though. You know what happened, well – you’ve heard the rumours, at least.”

Clint forces himself to nod. “I have, I just… I’ve looked at Ward’s file, Phil. He’s like a less accurate sniper version of me.”

Phil actually shudders. “Never compare yourself to him. He’s growing on me, I’ll give him that, but Ward could never be an Avenger, Clint. He doesn’t have a tenth of your drive.” He curls a hand through Clint’s hair. “He also doesn’t bring me coffee on Sunday mornings when he knows I’ll be in the office, or make me stutter when he grins just right.”

Clint has to swallow. “He could, though. He could grow even more on you. You’re going to be away a lot, Phil. This isn’t going to be like before. I won’t just be a floor or two away from you, or a cab-ride home. I’ll be living at the Tower and you – ”

“Will be missing you every second that I am away, which I have already been doing. I’d hoped the crushing guilt I’ve been living under for the past several months would get better, but I suspect that remembering the look on your face right now is actually going to make it worse.” 

Clint doesn’t know what to do, so he rolls his eyes. “I don’t look that horrified, do I?”

“No, you look like you don’t believe me.”

Clint doesn’t, but he knows better than to admit that. “I’m trying,” he says instead.

“And I’m trying to get it through my head that you care about me that much, so we’re both working uphill here.”

Clint realizes then that he’s never said it. “I’m sorry. I love you too, Phil. I always have. I just know that I’m not good enough for you.”

Phil pulls him in close and kisses him. “That’s exactly how I feel. We just both need to remember that, and we’ll be fine.”

“Yeah,” Clint chuckles against Phil’s mouth, “fucked up, but fine.”

“I don’t think either of us are going to win relationship prizes, so maybe we should stop keeping score and try to start over.”

“Okay,” Clint agrees, but he’s grinning. “Hi. My name is Clint Barton. I’m a level seven S.H.I.E.L.D. agent, a sniper, and apparently an Avenger. I’m also kind of an idiot, and completely in love with you.”

Phil grins back. “Hello. My name is Phil Coulson. I’m a senior S.H.I.E.L.D agent, a team leader, and also a gigantic nerd. I’m also kind of an idiot, and completely in love with you.”

Clint smiles even wider, and leans in for a kiss. “It’s very nice to meet you, Phil.”

“Likewise, Clint.”

 

*

 

It isn’t that easy, of course. Long distance sucks. Clint spends hours in the range, pushing Phil out of his mind so he can concentrate, but to be fair he’d used to do that before, too. Now, at least, he can go back to his room and pick up his phone. He likes to text Phil random pictures about his day. Usually it’s whatever smiley face he’s managed to shoot in the ridiculous obstacle courses that Tony keeps designing for him, but sometimes it’s Nat curled up in an armchair with her coffee, or Bruce looking up over his beakers. 

Clint gets pictures back, too – Ward making a constipated face and Skye with her epic eye rolls. Sometimes May will take pictures of Phil arguing with his team or smiling over cards, and she’ll send them over. Clint thinks Natasha sometimes does the same.

It’s extremely hard to know that Phil is saving the world and having adventures and bonding with his team while Clint isn’t there. He knows it’s hard for Phil in the same way, because the Avengers get called to assemble on a semi-regular basis now and it’s killing Phil not to be with them in the field. At the same time, there’s a lot to talk about over the phone at night, which is something they do for at least an hour every day. It keeps them close, even when Clint feels as if they’re worlds apart.

When they do happen to be in the same area, when Clint’s sent on a S.H.I.E.L.D. mission or the Bus is nearby, they spend as much time as they can together. Phil really does introduce Clint to his team, and he’s starting to make noise about going home for Christmas. He wants to introduce Clint to his family. Clint’s freaking out about that. He wants to do something similar for Phil, only Phil’s already met the only family he cares about any more. 

It’s not easy, and some days it’s damn hard, but it’s _worth it_ , too. Clint knows this as surely as he knows anything, and he’s getting better at saying it so Phil knows it too. 

“I love you,” he says, just before he hangs up the phone.

“I love you, too,” Phil says back. 

It’s more than Clint ever thought he’d have. It’s enough.

 

The End


End file.
